


Ouija: OR the Art of Scaring Teens

by tigerlily575



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Ghosts, I guess there’s character death, Pre-Slash, So really, but it’s not part of the story, cause they’re ghosts, is it that important?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 03:28:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15699222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigerlily575/pseuds/tigerlily575
Summary: “Spirit? Are you there spirit?” Steve rolled his eyes at the speaker; different day, same shit.





	Ouija: OR the Art of Scaring Teens

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, this is a thing that I forgot I wrote about a million years ago. And well, what’s the point in not sharing this weird little thing?  
> Definitely not beta’d so please excuse any awful mistakes that are bound to be ahead.

One thing Steve learned when he died was that the dead don’t rest. No, in fact the dead were very active and had jobs. Albet really bizarre and non traditional jobs, but jobs nonetheless. Mostly the jobs were doing hauntings, scarring people who decided to go into old abandoned buildings/sanitariums. But the big job creator was the call center, where spirits got connected to dumb teens playing around with communicating with the dead. 

Generally the nights Steve worked at the call center were slightly boring. Just the typical kids messing around. (Hello? Are you there spirit? Oh my god Johnny stop moving the thing. I’m not moving the thing, you’re moving the thing.) Steve had been doing this for about as long as the Ouija board hit it’s popularity (Thanks Hasbro). Tonight was shaping up to be exactly like all the other nights. Steve sighed dramatically as he sat in his cubicle waiting to see where he would be summoned to that night. 

Steve was taken out of his head by a person sitting down on his right. “Hey Cap, anything exciting planned for the night?” The redhead asked with a smirk. Steve smiled at her. He liked Natasha, she had been the first friend he made when he crossed over. She was a spitfire and always had some kind of sarcastic comment waiting. Steve was half in love with her. 

“Nothing much. Just gonna scare some kids probably. Tell them I’m Satan or Jack the Ripper or something,” eyes glinting with mischief as he responded. 

Natasha rolled her eyes at him. “You’re the reason there are terrible movies about us.” 

Steve just gave her his best all American smile. “I learned from the best. So, are you thinking about being Typhoid Mary again, or are you gonna branch out?” 

Natasha just laughed. “I’m glad you kept your sense of humor.” 

A man with an eye-patch and a menacing expression approached the pair. Director Fury was a man of many mysteries and few facial expressions. Steve was in a betting pool to see who could get him to smile. The other side really lacked in entertainment. Steve also needed more friends. 

Fury cleared his throat and Steve snapped out of his plotting. “Romanoff, I need you to take the call from the teen girls from Jersey, usual slumber party bullshit. Rogers I need you to take the call from Brooklyn. Some dumbass frat bros or something. Go.” The man walked away with an overly dramatic sweep of his floor length trench coat. 

Steve was fascinated at how it billowed in a room without wind. 

“Does Fury ever make you re-evaluate all of your choices when you were alive?” Steve asked Natasha, while still staring at Fury’s back. 

“Not so much. See you later Cap.” Natasha pet his head as she passed him on her way out. Steve rolled his eyes. “If you do that too much, they’ll get stuck that way,” Natasha’s voice carried back to him. 

Steve frowned. Dead people were creepy. 

He took a moment before following.Steve got up and stretched his legs a little before making his way down the hall to the convergence room where he would be taken to said frat boys. All in all it could have been so much worse. At least Steve could really fuck with the frat boys. 

“Rogers, back again?” Steve was greeted by a very handsome man with a slight gap in his smile. Sam was the second friend Steve made when he crossed over. He had a way of calming Steve down when he had his big “OH MY GOD I’M DEAD” moment. Sam was good people. 

Steve winked at him. “Can’t seem to stay away Wilson, you know how much I love my work.” 

Sam gave him a deadpan expression. Steve just grinned wider. Sam checked the clipboard in front of him, “Boys in Brooklyn?” 

“Beam me up.” 

Sam rolled his eyes. “You know, considering how often you go over, I’m surprised you haven’t picked up better references.” Sam saluted Steve after pressing a series of buttons. 

Steve gave him the finger before he was transported to what turned out to be an attic. Not unusual. Steve figured he could make some things move and freak the kids out. Speaking of…

“Spirit? Are you there spirit?” Steve rolled his eyes at the speaker; different day, same shit. 

The two kids, teens, young adults (Steve had no idea, when you’re dead, your age detector kind of goes on the fritz. Steve was also bad at that when he was alive so really, what did he know?). 

One of the boys was bulky and had that just finished puberty look. He had dark beady eyes, and his mouth took a cruel shape, like he knew all your secrets and had taken all your money and would happily take your first born child as well. Steve didn’t like him. 

The second boy was a smaller build, and still had the remnants of baby fat hanging around. But his grey-blue eyes sparkled with mischief and the kind of trouble only youth would find entertaining. His lips were a very tempting pink and curved into an alluring pout. Steve watched as the boy let his tongue trace the outline of those lips. Steve needed to stop staring. 

The boy with the lips spoke again, “Spirit? Can you answer us?” 

 

That jolted Steve out of his creepy staring and he proceeded to do what he always did; he went over to the board game and put his hands on the moving piece. 

“Y-E-S, spells yes.” The meathead with the mean face spoke slowly. Steve was concerned with his reading ability. 

The two boys sitting around the game chuckled and looked at the other as if it was one of them moving the piece.

“What is your name spirit?” The second boy Steve kept glancing at spoke. Steve was very interested in the timbre of his voice. It had a lovely quality to it that made you want to listen to everything the boy said. 

Steve really needed to snap out of this. He had never had this issue on a call before, and he refused to have one now. Steve decided on a classic tactic to get this session over with. With deft fingers and a clear purpose he spelled the name he chose for the night: 

S-A-T-A-N

“Jesus Buck, stop fucking around. It isn’t funny.” The bulky meathead looked seriously uncomfortable. Steve felt a surge of pride wring through him. It had been a while since he pulled the Satan card, but he was very glad that he made the right call to scare this asshole. 

The second boy, Bucky, Steve supposed glanced over and looked at Steve before looking back at the first boy. “Brock, it isn’t me. It’s the board. I’m not moving it.” 

If Steve had blood, it would have turned to ice in his veins. Did that boy just look at him? Can he see him? CAN STEVE MAKE A NON-DEAD FRIEND??

Brock scoffed and looked like he was about three seconds away from shitting himself or crying. “You’re full of shit Barnes.” His eyes were scanning around the room, looking for some sign that it wasn’t his friend fucking with him. Steve felt a light bulb go off over his head. 

They boy, Bucky, was rolling his eyes.”Get over it Brock. The spirits have awakened and it’s Satan.” Bucky’s eyes flicked back on Steve as he spoke, but then were fixed on his friend once more. This boy was a confusing puzzle but Steve liked the way his lips formed words. 

Steve was snapped away from his train of thoughts when the meathead asked another question. 

“Okay, Satan. How’s hell?” The meathead thought he was going to get away with being an asshole. Cute. 

“H-O-T” Steve was sniggering at this point. It would be hard to tell that he had been dead for about seventy years, seeing as he still acted like an adolescent. 

“Do you like Brooklyn?” The sweet one’s voice was quiet, and gentle. Like he actually wanted to know Steve’s answer. It had been a long time since Steve had felt an urge to pursue something more than friendship, but there was something about the boy with the mischief eyes. 

“Why do you ask such lame questions?” The meathead was talking again, Steve was starting to wonder how these two boys became friends. The bonds of childhood were strong and usually kept until past the young adult phase. “Satan, are you like super into stealing souls?” 

Steve was over this douche canoes’ attitude. “Y-E-S B-R-O-C-K” 

Steve was cackling with glee at the sheer horror on Brock’s face. “What the shit. WHAT THE SHIT BARNES?!?” 

Bucky looked like he wanted to laugh, but was barely keeping it together.“Rumlow, IT ISN’T ME.” 

By this point neither boy was holding the pointer so Steve decided to fuck with them some more.  
God, he thought to himself, teens were so easy, and with that Steve just moved the pointer around the board. 

The meathead screamed and nearly pissed himself. The other boy, the one with the lips and the eyes, he was just watching the board with a smirk on his face. His eyes moved to sneak a peek at Steve. Fuck.  
“Told you I wasn’t moving the pointer.” 

“YOU LET FUCKING SATAN IN YOUR HOUSE. I’M GETTING THE FUCK OUT.” 

And the meathead left in a flurry of expletives that would make a sailor blush. Bucky doubled over cackling once the door shut.  
“Oh my god, I can’t breath. That was hilarious. Thank you. Thank you so much,” Bucky took a moment to breath, let out a little giggle then continued, “You’re not really Satan are you?”

Steve was still by the board. So he decided to move the piece, in case the boy couldn’t hear him. 

“N-O.” Bucky smiled at that. 

“You got a name?” 

“Y-E-S” Bucky’s grin was so bright, Steve wondered if it could power the block. 

The boy laughed. “You gonna tell me that name?” 

“Steve.” Steve said out loud. 

“Well, nice to meet you Steve. Tell Nat I say hi. We’ll talk soon. I gotta make sure Brock isn’t having a heart attack.” Bucky left with a wink and a jaunty salute. 

Steve’s jaw dropped. What. The. Fuck. WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK.

 

Steve could never remember how he ended up back at the call center, but there he was staring at Sam. “What the hell?” 

Sam shrugged. “Did something happen?” 

“I think one of them could see me. He looked at me, and he heard me? Is this a new thing?” 

Sam’s eyes were wide. “Dude, keep this between us.” 

“Sam, what’s going on?” Steve felt his stomach sink to his toes. 

Sam shook his head. “Keep it quiet for now. We’ll have a brain trust, get this settled.” And with that Sam was up and out of the office, leaving a very confused Steve.

**Author's Note:**

> Please be gentle with me, it’s been awhile. Feel free to leave comments or kudos. Or don’t, live your best life little bbs. Stay hydrated.


End file.
